


Bones, Beer, and Belial

by nanianela



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demon Deals, Demons, Gen, Hell's Divided into departments, Inspired by Art, Kost is a tiny russian demon, Luck Demons, M/M, Original Fiction, Ravens, Satan's in a frat, Short Story, maneki neko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-05-28 03:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6312814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanianela/pseuds/nanianela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luck demon Kost Voronkov thinks something fishy is going on in the Crossroads Deals Deparment: someone is stealing from their own demonkind to fulfill human trades, tipping things off-balance and creating a surplus of human souls to cash in on.<br/>Kost suspects Satan's ill-behaved, beer-guzzling, fratboy son Belial (or Bell) to be behind it all, but he didn't really have a reason to complain until his torso was stolen away without permission and smacked onto the body of a young man dying of heart disease, Rex. Rex now doesn't know where he belongs in the human or demon worlds, and Kost isn't really happy about his skeleton ribcage. The two band together to try and fix the situation and bring Rex's father back to life, since his sacrifice was for a botched Deal. Bell's too busy partying with his ΗΕΓΓ fraternity, and Satan's tired of his antics. This might be harder than they thought. Apparently, they <i>do</i> serve beer in Hell.<br/>This short story, told in 3 parts, is inspired by a friend's art and written for her 20th birthday! HBD tessa :-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tclowe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tclowe/gifts).



> Here's the art for the following piece, all made by [tessalowe](http://tessalowe.tumblr.com) on tumblr. Please go give her a follow if you can!!! 
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> Pre-demon Kost
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> Early concept  
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> Rex with his new chest

It must have been close, because he could feel it.

He’d landed in the underbelly, and now he stood alone in the middle of the cracked street as the swirls of pitch surrounding him dissipated. Instead of some kind of ominous figure dressed in black, the light-haired demon was practically swimming in an oversized, knit pullover. The black jeans and sharply shined dress shoes on his bottom half made his whole appearance all the more confusing--he invoked the image of a hand-knitted beer cosy slipped over a polished black bottle of poison.

Even at first glance it was easy to tell the man was desperate, just by the way the muscles in his face were pulled taut, his pale eyes pinched as if it were bright, and the muscles in his angular jaw rippled slightly underneath the skin as he ground down hard on his molars. A nasty, textured scar that had healed paler in shiny sinews slashed across the bridge of his nose. He sunk his chin deeper into the turtleneck collar of the cream white sweater, and tugged obsessively once again at the sleeves. He bowed his head for a brief moment; he could definitely still feel his missing piece nearby.

This was the somewhat shameful part of town that every city hides somewhere, with grimy gum-spotted sidewalks, tattered plastic bags entangled and fluttering within bare tree branches, broken and boarded windows on buildings plastered with graffiti, and soggy rubbish collecting at the corners of the vertical mouths of gutters like festering cold sores. The street and the surrounding buildings seemed especially grotesque in the gentle, grey light of the early morning, and the demon Kost couldn’t help but feel as if it didn’t deserve the clean, rosy glow--you wouldn’t spray perfume on dog shit.

He winced, his eyes wrinkling in a harsh blink. That was his upbringing talking again, he tried to reassure himself. _You’re better than that now_.

His raven pecked impatiently at the inside of his ribcage again with her sharp beak, letting out a soft croak.

Kost cursed in Russian under his breath at the sharp burst of pain, cradling the tender bone with his palm and slipping his thumb through one of the gaps in his ribs, petting the bird’s head through the fabric of the massive knit sweater. She readjusted her feathers with a soft crackling sound, and he could feel her repositioning as her feet wrapped around a few of his ribs and the tiny talons pricked in for a stronger grip. He knew it must have been cramped for her there inside his ribcage; he was feeling antsy himself after all this time spent walking amongst human beings. Being topside was something he usually tried to avoid; it was too unsettling now that he’d spent so much time away. It was nauseating to him how fragile everything was.

Kost knew in the back of his mind that he should have done something before he’d been robbed of such a large piece of his form. He’d known something strange had been going on with human Deals for a while now, but he’d just figured there was no reason to stick his nose in a different department’s business, and he had no idea if the mismanagement within Deals would ever really affect him directly. Things had been going downhill there for a while now, ever since it was put under new management with Satan’s beer-guzzling, ill-behaved, incompetent son Belial. Or, as he liked to be called Bell. With him in charge, botched Dealing the likes of which Kost had never seen before were cropping up by the dozens.

Kost sighed grumpily, and captured his lower lip between his teeth. He’d never trusted those smarmy demons over in the Deals department, and because he decided to keep quiet he had to deal with this now himself. Kost tugged at the wooly sleeves of his oversized sweater once again. They’d come dangerously close to slipping down and revealing where his wrists ended abruptly, and from the meaty flat edge of muscle and skin poked his exposed ulna and radius. Kost hated looking at the disgusting aftereffect of what had become of his form: even just thinking about it made him subconsciously scrunch up his nose. The faster he got all of this over with, the better.

The hole-in-the-wall eatery had a flat, white metal door that resisted against him as he pushed against it, the rusted springs of the door squawling unhappily. The smell of roasting potatoes and frying eggs wafted thick in the air, and it was noisy and cramped in here, with a temperature spike because of the amount of warm bodies in the room.

 _Warm bodies_ , Kost thought and shuddered, more determined than ever to make this quick. The music from a very outdated radio blared with fuzzy edges, accompanied by the loud sizzle of the grill, and the people all chatting or cooks relaying information made a thick cloud of sound. Kost buried his nose even further into the sweater’s turtleneck, and his pale blue eyes scanned the room as he pushed further into it.

He knew immediately when he saw him.

The kid was absentmindedly scrolling through his cracked cell phone with his thumb, and raking his hand through his fluffy brown hair before pocketing the phone and pulling his maroon beanie back on. The kid was a mess. The skin around his eyes was the deep color of a bruise, clearly in the same distinct squarish shape of his eye sockets.  His swollen eyelids pinched his eyes partially shut, and even now he had a runny nose and runny eyes he was constantly rubbing at with the dampened sleeve of his faded grey Adidas hoodie. It was clear the man didn’t care much about who saw him looking distraught like this. It looked like he deserved a medal just for stepping outside.

The boy got his coffee and while he was sliding on a cardboard sleeve, the cook touched the back of his hand. He jerked away, but tried to pretend he hadn’t.

“Take care of yourself, Rex, all right?” She said, and Kost had to supplement most of it with lip reading over the cloud of noise.

_So, his name is Rex._

Rex thanked her with a tiny uptick of his lips, like a twitch. She tried to smile back at him, but her returning gesture was strained and full of pity.

Rex turned away, curling both palms around the cardboard sleeve. When he looked up, he must have seen Kost’s staring directly at him as he stopped in his tracks. He must have known instantly, the same way Kost had sensed it.

Rex’ eyes widened and then darted from side to side. “ _Shit_.” He cursed loudly, ditching the coffee without a second thought and darting for the door. On his way, he yanked at an empty chair and it fell with a bounce and a loud clatter, landing in some of the coffee that left a long puddle.The loud noise had the whole coffee shop’s attention by now, and Rex darted out the door which slammed closed with a metallic bang. Kost saw him as he began sprinting down the street, arms and legs pumping hard, his red Chuck Taylors kicking up hard with each stride. People watched him go, chairs groaning loudly across the floor as they all crowded around the few windows.

Kost sighed, irritable.

“Hey, you!” The same cook from before barked at him, and Kost turned around wearily. The whole place now smelled of the puddle of discarded coffee, shoe prints were already being tracked onto the buckling speckled white tiles as people had stepped through it to get to the window.

She was drying one of their brown plastic textured cups with a rag, but the expression she gave him was lethal. “You’re an undercover cop, huh? It ain’t that damn hard to tell.” She slid the cup along the counter to join the others with a scrape, and tucked a piece of wavy brown hair that had come loose from her bun behind her ear once again. “I’ve known him since he was small. That kid never did _anything_ wrong or against the law.”

Kost looked at her blankly, then turned to leave. He didn’t have time to engage with someone so much younger than him, much less a human being.

“He’s been sick!” She called out after him, her voice shaking with anger. “And his daddy died not even a week ago! You _still_ want to harass him for something petty, no doubt?”

Kost stared at her blankly, and then pushed back outside into the grimy streets without a word.

“Oh, _chinga tu madre_.” She spat after him and whapped the rag down on the counter, before the door sprang shut again with a bang.

 _Interesting_ , Kost thought. “ _Follow_ ,” He ordered under his breath in Russian, pinching the hemline of his sweater and pulling it up just enough so the raven roosting inside his ribcage could escape through the large hole where his stomach used to be.

Rex had just finished hopping a chain link fence that led into a back alley, he pushed on further and found it bent around to the back of the building, where a few dumpsters were pushed. In relief he leaned back against the brick wall, breathing hard but feeling more secure behind a tall fence at out of sight in the hook of the alleyway. He closed his eyes and slid down the wall, resting with his knees tucked up to his chest as he huffed. He curiously brought his hand to splay over his rapidly beating heart, and he looked down to see if maybe he could physically see his pulse against his hand. It had been so long since he could even _walk_ unassisted, and running was even more exhilarating than he’d remembered. The furious pumping in his chest felt good, and he missed this more than he’d even known. He tried to slow his breaths so he could hear any footsteps, but all he could hear was silence and a few birds cawing.

“Finally.”

Rex immediately looked up from his hand to find the disembodied voice, coiled up his leg muscles and planted his hands to the grimy concrete on both sides so he could push off and sprint away if he needed to. He heard the loud snapping of a bird’s wings, and he followed the black raven with his eyes as it dove down and settled on the person’s shoulder with a few more beats of its wings.

Kost had taken the pullover off, and now had it balled up and held it loosely in the crook of his arm bones. The raven spread her wings for balance and shuffled along his collarbone, finally finding the most comfortable spot and digging her talons in. Rex was rendered speechless--the brief image of the sharp, black feathers and the bones made him fully believe he was seeing the angel of Death.

“I’ve been tracking you for days, now.” Kost began, his voice rolling on in low tones, his touch an an accent curling the edges of his words. “I’m here because I believe you have something of mine. Not by a circumstance of your own choice, but nonetheless, you _have_ stolen from me.” He took a calculated step forward, further out of the triangular shadow cast between the two buildings.

His terrified heartbeat didn’t feel so good this time around. Rex couldn’t trust his legs to support him at the moment, and he sucked in a gasp as the skeleton took yet another step closer. “ _Don’t…_!” Rex yelped, throwing out his arms and shielding himself in his elbows. He tried to show him his palms, his voice wavering by how hard he was shaking.“I know what my Dad did, okay, I didn’t want any part of it, so if you’re going to….to….”

His grey sleeve slipped down just partially, and Kost could already get a peek of his own pale, freckle-dusted wrist underneath. The separation was paranormal: with surgical precision, drawing a sharp border between Kost’s paperish Russian skin and Rex’s deep brown complexion.

“That torso belongs to _me,_ thief.” Kost warned, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in anger, folding oddly along his scar tissue. He’d wasted days away from his job to try and track this person down, and now he was going to try and act innocent. He wanted his body back now, and he wasn’t going to tolerate an act like this. He took another step closer, leaving the angular shade behind him now. Rex’s shiny brown eyes darted around as if he were looking for the easiest way to escape. He pressed his palm to the wall, shying into it.

“There.” Rex blurted out, squeezing his eyes shut as his chest flared in and out with panicked breaths. “Just-stay right there, all right? Don’t come any closer. _Please_.”

Kost stood still, planting his shiny shoes and staring at the kid with his mouth set in an angry line.

“...I never asked him to do this,” Rex began quietly after a moment, it seemed like each word was being carefully calculated. “I’d accepted it. Do you know how hard that is? To be okay with just laying down and dying, after surgery after surgery and therapy and pain, to say it was all for nothing in the end? I was _ready to die_. I was okay with that, too. And then….then…..”

“Your father perished.” Kost spoke up over him. “He contracted this Deal.”

“Y-Yeah.” Rex stuttered, finally finding the strength to clamber to his feet. He stood tense, his arms out in bent angles and his fingers spread, as if a snarling dog was in front of him.  “It was all him. I had nothing to do with it. I swear.”

“I see,” Kost ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, thinking. A look of relief flickered over Rex’s distraught face, and Kost could have laughed. This boy had thought he’d said the right thing, but really, he’d just condemned himself. He’d just proved to him this person’s life was not claimed by any other demon. So, Kost had free reign over the situation, and could claim the life for himself.

The demon was fast, and he was surprised that the boy had quick enough reflexes to avoid the initial blow. The silver from his blade only flashed, and Rex was able to roll away from the first slash, but then quickly was caught off-balance and fell hard on his back with a thud.

Kost perched over him, pinning him down with his knees on either side of his stolen chest. Kost harshly yanked the cotton neckline of the hoodie down, exposing the perfect line cutting across brown and speckled white around the base of his neck and separating the hollow of his throat into two tones.

Rex struggled hard underneath him, his living breath hot in his face, and Kost held the blade at the ready, already sinking in the tip to follow along that perfect line. Bright red welled up around the silver. If only the boy would stop moving around so much, this would make this whole thing a lot quicker. Rex was screaming bloody murder, and just when Kost thought he had him, Rex managed to slip from his grip, rolling out from under him and taking off before he’d even got his footing, resulting in unsteady first steps.

Kost teleported instantly to him, leaving an imprint of swirls of black in his place that dissipated like ink in water, as he slammed up against Rex and pinned him to the brick wall. Rex sobbed brokenly, chanting something over and over again desperately as his body quaked. Kost didn’t have the patience to try and register the English, he was too focused on the task at hand, carving his body back.

“ _Voronkov_.”

The demon only stopped when he heard a very familiar voice and an irritable throat clearing. Kost backed away from the boy, who immediately passed out after his body, which had been scraping by with a barely functioning heart, was overwhelmed easily with its new one. Rex fell away from the wall like a marionette with cut strings to crumple up at its base. Kost turned around very slowly, meeting the narrowed eyes of his boss and his bulky Familiar, a large onyx bull. The man was every Renaissance painter’s wet dream, floaty golden curls surrounded his head and curled around his ears, he had a slightly cleft chin and strong, aquiline nose as a centerpiece to his face. He looked as if he should have been wearing draping white Greek robes, but instead he wore a crisp three piece suit in garnet and gold. He looked at Kost with a disapproving frown, then his eyes flicked down to the thick clipboard he had in his hands.

“You’ve been on unexcused absence since last Tuesday.” He warned, marking a place on the page with his finger. “...And now, I find you in the middle of trying to murder a _human being_.”

Kost huffed angrily, keeping an eye on Rex’s crumpled up body. His raven fluttered down to land on his shoulder that jutted up off the ground, and with a shuffle sat down over her talons into a fluffy lump to keep watch over him. “I’ve been stolen from, Eutychios.” Kost tried to explain, pointing at the unconscious boy and his raven. “The Deals department did this! He’s a thief, I’m taking back what has been stolen from my form.”

Eutychois returned the statement with an unamused stare. “We’re **all** unhappy with the changes that Belial has brought, Kost, that is no excuse to abandon your duties of the Department.” His bull snorted behind him and gave its head a shake, and the man lay his hand on its wide nose. “This action cannot go without consequence.”

Kost tensed up, and his facial expression fell into something more stoney. “Understood, Boss.”

“You will be put on dice and lucky penny duty for one month,” Eutychios took an expensive pen from his breast pocket and scribbled something down, ending with a moody poke at the paper. “I know you’re not a born-demon, but I expected more from you, Voronkov.”

Kost tried hard to cover up the wince when his boss brought up his human lineage once again. His fingers curled loosely into fists. “My deepest apologies, boss.”

“Don’t let this happen again.” Eutychois stared at him moodily, keeping his hand on the bull’s dark neck where it stood next to him. “Deal with…” He motioned vaguely at the scene in front of him with disinterest. “...Whatever the Underworld this in on your own time.”

“Yes, sir.” Kost bit, grinding on his molars. Eutychois blinked out of existence in a swirl of gold, which quickly stretched into rivulets and dissipated into the air. Screw the Luck Department, when half of his body had been stolen away from him and slapped onto some random human being. Who cared if that one guy won the lottery or not. It wasn't like he was the only one who was working there, anyway. Couldn't they find someone else to cover his shifts?

Kost approached the unconscious person once again, and his raven noticed and flapped up to perch on his collarbone once again and the two of them stared down at Rex.

Kost couldn’t believe he’d be on Dice Duty for a _month_ for this bullshit. He kicked a pebble of concrete moodily, where it bounced up off the brick wall again. He’d already done his time with coin flips, lucky pennies and dice when he was assigned to the Luck Department so long ago. He’d moved on from that, he'd worked his way up, and now that he’d have to go back to the scrubbing toilets of the luck world, he was frustrated beyond belief. How much worse could his day possibly get?

Kost grumbled to himself and slipped his arms under the unconscious boy’s armpits, hauling him up. “Lucky pennies and stupid dice,” Kost continued to gripe under his breath as Rex’s body fell heavy backwards against him, his chin rolling on his bi-toned neck. “ _Пошёл на_.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely full disclosure, just to see if I could most of these ideas I thought of after smoking. Hopefully they're not too weird now, lmfao

Rex finally came to on the floor of the nursery he used to run with his father. He thought maybe all of this must have all been some kind of strange dream, until he felt the dull throb on the side of his neck where that terrifying half-skeleton person had dug in the tip of his knife. Rex awoke with a loud inhale, yelping again when the person was back in the room with him.

“ _Quiet_.” Kost flinched at the loud noise, his nose briefly wrinkling. “I’m not going to try and kill you again. Even if I managed to cut my chest off of you, putting it back on myself wouldn’t be easy without help. Calm down.”

“Calm down?” Rex echoed, pushing up off the floor with one hand and sitting up. His whole body ached--no doubt Kost hadn’t done anything to cushion his fall when he’d passed out cold. “I get that this-” He jabbed at his sternum “-is really yours, but did you listen to a _fucking_ word I even said? I don’t know how this happened! I didn’t even know my Dad knew how to do something like this in the first place!”  

Kost continued to stare at him with his steely eyes, as he sat down to wait on the wooden stool they usually kept behind the cashier counter. He’d pulled the gigantic knit sweater back on, and for now his raven sat in a fluffed-up ball in his lap, and he reached out to stroke her head gently with his thumb. “Stop with the yelling. I’ve had a very bad day, Rex. I’m willing to reason now.”

“Willing to-” Rex stopped himself, and his lips curled into a frustrated smile and he laughed bitterly. “Willing to _reason_ . _Pfffha_! You’re a goddamn lunatic.” Rex continued to laugh, pinching at the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “I’m gonna _die_ ,” He mumbled feverishly to himself. “I thought I just got out of heart failure, now...this guy's gonna fucking kill me..."

Kost captured his lower lip in his teeth. “Now it is your turn to listen. I don’t intend to kill you anymore. This issue is bigger than one measly human being. I have reason to believe that there’s something fishing going on in the Crossroads Deals department.”

“It’s, uh,  _fishy_.” Rex corrected him tentatively, his fingers half-curled as he didn't know where to point it out or not. 

Kost returned the comment with a cold look.

“Uh, well, glad you’re not going to try and kill me anymore, though.” Rex said instead, then continued to ramble, pacing back and forth in the small shop that had absolutely every nook and cranny crammed with plants. “God, I must be going insane. I’ve lost it, haven’t I? I’ve had a mental break. A stroke, or something.”

Ah, Kost remembered his first time learning about all of this after his own death. He hated to admit that he only sympathized with the boy because he knew all about being entangled in the consequences of a Deal without knowing anything about it. Still, he had no time to try and cater to this person’s disbelief and coddle him into it. They had things they needed to do.

“If I’m right, you could probably be granted access into the Underworld now since you have the flesh of a demon. We must parlay with the head of the Deals department, the young Sata-” Kost began, thinking deeply, only to be interrupted.

“-You’re a _dem_ \--!” Rex blurted, and immediately his hands flew to his chest, patting here and there. “Oh shit, so then-- you mean _this_ is--!”

“Try not to get over-excited again,” Kost grumbled, eyes flicking over to him briefly before returning to his Familiar. “Your body is not used to a functioning heart. You were very heavy and it was _not_ enjoyable carrying you here.”

Rex immediately closed his mouth and swept his eyes over the length of the demon, as if taking him in for the first time. He finally relaxed, letting his hands dangle loosely at his sides.

“...You’re really not going to try and kill me, huh?” Rex asked, his exhaustion apparent once again on his weary face.

“No,” Kost avoided his eyes and gently tickled the raven’s feathers in his lap again, the tips of his pale fingers being swallowed by the thick black down. “That wouldn’t fix anything.”

“Uh...so what did you say you need me for again?” Rex itched to grab his spray bottle and begin watering the many plants that surrounded him, since he was planning on doing that all morning. But, he restrained himself, figuring it would be rude. 

“We must go together to confront the young Satan, Bell, and bring you as a piece of living evidence.” Kost explained again, slow and very patronizing. “There’s been a recent spike in botched deals, stealing from demonkind to fulfill human trades. I believe he’s creating and hoarding the surplus that results.”

“You mean….he took my Dad’s life and then jipped him on the deal.” Rex’s face fell, and the sharp pang in his chest was displayed clearly on his face. “...That’s why this is yours.”

“Yes.” Kost replied, setting his mouth in a hard line and finally standing up off of the stool and taking a step closer. Rex found it funny; now that Kost didn't seem like the damn angel of Death here to take his soul, Rex realized he was actually quite a bit taller than Kost.

“It dawned on me that we are not each other’s enemy. Belial is the one behind everything.” Kost continued.

“Belial is your boss?” Rex asked curiously, realizing he had to actually look _down_ at the pale demon. He must have been at least five or six inches shorter. The knit sweater wasn't doing much to upkeep his terrifying appearance, either. For a second, Rex even wondered if this was the same person he'd been so terrified of before.

Kost shook his head. “No. Belial is the head of the Deals department.”

“But you’re a demon, right? That’s what you just said.” Rex leaned back into his wrists onto the counter that was dotted with a dozen leafy green basil pots.

“Yes, but I don’t work with those making Deals. I’m with….” Kost sighed, his hands curling into limp fists at his sides. He hated telling people who were ignorant about the division of the Underworld about his occupation. He already knew he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all the other born-demons who had Luck written all over them--red, gold, bouncy curls, radiant features, gold teleportation trails, all the bells and whistles. No one ever said a human-born would always find their perfect fit.

“I’m with the Luck department. And because my Boss caught me taking days off of work to search for your ass, I’m stuck on lucky penny and dice duty for a _month_.” Kost griped, still hung up on it even after a few hours had passed. He frowned, and his hands curled into fists at his sides.

“Wait...those things are really determined by someone else?” Rex squawked out a laugh and clapped a large hand over his mouth. He seemed shocked by the laugh, like he’d forgotten he even could after being so miserable lately. “You can tell me what you _really_ do, you know. I might seem young by your standards, but I could handle it. You kind of look like you’d be an Undertaker. Are you an Undertaker? You can tell me the truth.”

“ _No_ , I…” Kost nearly growled in frustration. “I work with luck, that’s it.”

“So, since you played hooky from work to find me, you have to go around and put pennies that are tails-up and flip them onto heads? And make people’s dice roll to a certain number?” Rex looked over at Kost to gauge his reaction. He looked extremely agitated, his eyes narrowed even more than they were before.

Rex squawked out another laugh.

“Don’t make me reconsider killing you just for the hell of it,” Kost replied moodily, plopping down on the stool once again.

“If we’re going on a journey to hell together, I should probably get your name first.” Rex said finally, after he was done laughing at the demon’s expense, picturing a terrifying half-skeleton having to run around town and squat at every penny and flip it over.

“Kost. Voronkov.”

“You’re Russian then, huh? I _thought_ I heard an accent. You’re not like...a demon mob boss or something, right?” Rex tried to crack a joke, then swept his eyes over the length of him once again. “... _Nah_. The grandpa sweater thing kind of takes that one off the table.”

“Sorry to _disappoint_ ,” Kost hissed through clenched teeth. He didn't like jokes.

Even when he wasn't working, Kost liked to be all-business. He couldn't _believe_ the mouth on this boy once it had been established that Kost wasn't going to try and carve his chest right off of him anymore. Well, standing at Death’s door and ding-dong ditching had probably put a bit of hair on his chest. Humans sure got cocky after a brush with Death. Those actually managing reaping in the Death department were a thousand times worse.

Kost fiddled at the wooly edge of his sweater, picking nervously at a few loose strands. His raven landed on his knee and waddled closer, seeing the action as an invitation to climb back inside. Kost obliged, tugging up the middle and the bird slipped underneath and found a comfortable position inside to have a mid-day nap.

“Does that, uh, hurt?” Rex asked and pointed, looking a bit squeamish at seeing a fairly large bird be able to hide in someone’s body like that. Rex tried to hide his grimace as Kost let the cloth fall down once again, there was no indication whatsoever that a live animal was inside. Wasn't that super unsanitary, too?

“No...not unless she pecks me. She stays mostly quiet in the dark. I don’t want to draw attention with her staying on my shoulder when I’m here in the human world, as she usually does.” Kost finally stood up from his chair, briskly wiping his hands off on his black jeans. “We should go now. You’re very heavy and I’m tired, so I will direct us to the nearest portal. On foot.”

“Hang on, you want me to go with you _now?!_ I’ve only known you for a couple minutes!” Rex stumbled after him at his heels, as Kost made his way for the door. "Hey, _stop_!"

Kost reluctantly stood still after making his next step, and only turned partially to look at Rex until he caught up with him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

" _Ow_." Both of them hissed in tandem, as the sweater provided much less padding than Rex had initially thought and essentially slapping a bone directly was extremely pokey. The bone was extremely sensitive on Kost's side as well.

" _Don't_ do that again," Kost rubbed at his sore shoulder. "-And I do not take orders from humans."

Rex was quickly falling under the impression that Kost was like an animal who was constantly fluffing themselves to seem more threatening, yet there really wasn't much underneath.

"Sorry--uh---I gotta lock this place up and put up a notice. I was about to open up for the day." Rex hiked his thumb over his shoulder. "It'll only take a minute."

Kost shot him a _look-_ but then again, Kost seemed to give him a lot of those. He was still only partially turned his way, he seemed like he hated wasting any energy with these human interactions. Even just turning around fully would have been a nuisance. 

" _What?_ The human world doesn't just stop revolving because you showed up." Rex teased. "It'll just be a minute." 

" _хуй_ \--don't make me sow your mouth shut." Kost retorted, tugging at his sleeves again. "All I need you for is living evidence. You are not needed to spoke."

"It's speak," Rex corrected without even looking up, as he adjusted the red hands of the blue-rimmed clock sign he was getting ready to hang up at the front of the shop. He gave in and finally grabbed that spray bottle he'd been gravitating toward all morning, getting some of the particular plants he knew had needed a little extra spritz now that it was getting hotter outside and their leaves had started drooping. 

"What are you doing? We go, now!" Kost called to him irritably. "I don't wait around for humans!" 

"Yeah, yeah. You said that already." Rex lifted some leaves away so he could spray at the soil at the base of a plant. He took a few seconds longer with everything than he really should have, just to piss the guy off. It was the least he could do after this pounding headache when Kost must have just let him hit the ground back there like a sack of potatoes.

"All humans are insufferable." Kost mumbled when Rex was finally finished, possibly to the raven in his belly, and already was pushing out into the street.

The two of them fell into step with one another, awkwardly keeping about a full two feet apart as they walked down the sidewalk. If anyone passed them, they'd walk right through the space in between.

"Is there really a portal close enough to walk to? No offense, but I know this place like the back of my hand, and I think I would have noticed." Rex semi-laughed, burying his hands into the pouch in the front of his hoodie. "Or, you know, maybe people walk past some gigantic fiery whirlpool everyday and think nothing of it. Either one."

"I do not like jokes," Kost warned, his accent coming in a bit stronger for a moment. "Keep walking."

A muffled croak came from inside Kost's sweater, and for a second Rex had almost forgot all about the boney ribcage hidden underneath the pullover. After a second passed and Kost didn't acknowledge the sound whatsoever, the bird followed up with a soft caw.

"Uh, I think your bird wants to be let out or something." Rex pointed out, while Kost just had his eyes trained on the street in front of him.

"She's being a brat." If Rex wasn't mistaken, for a second there Kost seemed to actually have a bit of liveliness behind his usually monotone words. "She wants to fly now. But we are almost there anyway. She can wait." Kost briefly pressed a hand to the flat, empty space on the absence of a stomach and took it away again. Apparently, the raven didn't get the message, or elected to ignore it.

" _Ow_ -!" Kost yelped, a hand flying to cover his sternum like someone who feels a pang of heartburn.

Rex snorted, biting down on his smiling bottom lip. "Did she just peck you?"

Kost scowled and lifted the hem of the sweater to tent just enough, and the bird finally burst forth and with a few beats of her wings took to the sky.

"Wow, I didn't know that between you and that bird, the damn _bird_ wears the pants in this relationship." Rex was getting way too much of a kick out of the whole thing. The look on Kost's face had been hilarious. Rex snickered into his hand.

Kost shot him another sour look.

"You just _looove_ to give me that look," Rex kept prodding at him, and Kost looked extremely relieved to have arrived. The two stopped walking to stare at what was in front of them, a wall with graffiti that had been painted over very poorly; most of its shapes and thick lines were still entirely visible underneath one layer of cheap white paint. Rex could make out a few bubble letters, scribbles, and one hastily drawn tree in black spray paint.

"Oh shit, did it get painted over since you last heard of it?" Rex took a step forward and trailed his fingers over the bricks glossy with paint.  

"You humans really have no patience." Kost held his arm out flat, and the raven touched back down on it within seconds.

"See? I told you we were close." He scolded her. "Don't peck me, foolish bird. дурак." Still, he was forgiving, and the bird shuffled along his arm until it perched on his shoulder once again.

"Do exactly as I tell you, now." Kost brushed his hands off on the black denim over his thighs once again. "Stand close to me and stare straight ahead. Do not move your eyes. Pretend as if they were paralyzed." 

"I mean... _okay_..." Rex shrugged his hands out of his hoodie pocket.

This really must have been some kind of joke, but then again Kost really didn't seem the type to pull pranks. Rex held his breath and stared straight ahead, trying to keep his eyes as still as possible as he looked at the painted-over graffiti. Probably around a minute had passed and Rex was getting agitated, yet the change had been so subtle he thought maybe it was his eyes playing tricks on him. The flat white of the shitty cover-up job had slowly been growing depth, and the white was beginning to swirl slowly--it took him a second longer than it should have to realize that this wasn't shitty, thin paint at all, but really a very thick mist that was obscuring what was behind it.

"Come," Kost ordered under his breath and linked his boney arm into Rex's and tugged him along. Now that Rex was allowed to look away, it was hard to. The dimensional slow-moving mist was incredible to look at, and Rex found himself thinking with each passing second that he had no idea why he'd ever believed it to be just a layer of paint in the first place.

Kost toted him along, until Rex finally looked away. The angular, black branches that Rex had assumed was just a tag artist's rendition of a tree on a blank wall was a real, gigantic tree with gnarled branches that was probably around three stories tall. Rex could feel the thickness of the mist brushing against his skin as Kost toted him along, and he could see more through the mist with each passing second. The twisted, black-bark tree stood tall in the middle of a marketplace in a town square, where figures were bustling around it. The longer he looked, the more details appeared: the two story buildings all around them, the circular square they were standing in, the merchant's shops with tented roofs. 

"This is the Underworld?" Rex hissed to Kost under his breath, letting Kost pull him along as he tried to take everything in in wonder. "...But that was so _easy!_ There's some other catch, right?" 

"The only requirement is that you have the flesh of a demon on your body." Kost replied, monotone, as he kept tugging him along. "Keep moving. You smell bad, people will know you're not native if you stay in one spot for too long." 

Rex kept trying to make out the faces of the people streaming all around him, maybe he would see some cool skulls or something witchy. Other than some of them wearing thick black hoods to cover their heads, they kind of just looked like regular people. Rex couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. 

"This is where you live?" Rex asked in awe, taking things in all around him. "It's so...gloomy." 

"The mist lifts more in the summer months. I got used to it very long time ago." Kost replied, guiding Rex through the crowds as it started to thicken. "We won't be spending much time here. There's another portal close by, where we can meet with Bell." 

"Shit, already?" Rex rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. "Damn, should I have changed into my suit?" 

Kost actually scoffed to avoid laughing at how earnest Rex had sounded. "You'll find Bell to have a very....interesting demeanor." 

"What do you mean?" Rex's eyebrows drew together, forming a small line between them. Kost deliberately ignored him, tugging him along by the sleeve impatiently and Rex stumbled after him, his usually lengthy strides choppy and cut short so that he wouldn't fall forward onto Kost. "Kost, what did you mean by  _interesting_?"  


End file.
